


the ache runs deep

by daringyounggrayson



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [13]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is a Good Second Parent, Alfred Pennyworth is a parent too, Angst, Batman Bingo, Earthquakes, Family, Ficlet, Gen, Grief/Mourning, but he's also sad because his boys are gone :/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daringyounggrayson/pseuds/daringyounggrayson
Summary: After earthquakes ripple through Gotham, Alfred takes stock of the house. He finds that two pieces of pottery have broken, and both of the artists are gone, albeit in different ways.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833130
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	the ache runs deep

**Author's Note:**

> elarhy asked: Eartquake + Alfred. "He was not going to be happy the _____ broke"
> 
> I have written a thing and I hope you like it!

Earthquakes had been happening on and off all day, none of which could be blamed on natural causes. Alfred spent most of the day in the Cave, directing Master Bruce through the city via comm units. Master Dick arrived to help as well, though he declined Alfred’s request to come home for dinner. 

Master Bruce made it home in one piece, and Master Dick had returned to New York. Alfred is only left to assume he did so in one piece; Master Dick never even stepped foot in the Cave. Alfred is sympathetic as to why, of course, but the ache of Master Dick’s continued absence still runs deep. It’s a reminder that Master Jason is not the only boy they have lost.

Alfred makes his way into the manor for the first time since the earthquakes began, leaving Master Bruce to his brooding and report writing. The study, as expected, is a mess. A vase is broken, several picture frames have fallen from the desk. A pile of books from the bookshelf are now splayed on the floor, seemingly impersonating a rug.

Alfred leaves all but the pictures, pleased to find that only one frame had cracked and all of the pictures are undamaged. 

He moves through the house, absentmindedly taking stock of which areas will need cleaning. All in all, it could have been much worse. The manor held its ground spectacularly, and a few shards of broken glass are nothing compared to what many in the heart of Gotham will have to come home to.

Alfred reaches his room and turns on the light, gasping when he sees that his dresser and everything on it has fallen to the ground. Among the wreckage are two pieces of pottery, one from Master Dick and one from Master Jason. Both had been middle school projects—their first middle school pottery projects, at that—and Alfred had had the honor of receiving them. Master Dick had made Alfred a coin dish, painted a stunning shade of blue with “Alfred” written across the middle in neat print. It was decorated with three birds flying across the top right quadrant. Master Dick would not be happy to hear that it had broken.

Master’s Jason’s was in far fewer pieces, and while it would not be the same, Alfred is confident that he will be able to glue them back together. This piece was also intended to be a coin dish, though Alfred more-often used it to hold his watch or keys. Master Jason had painted it white with a red cup of tea in the center, gray steam rising from it. On the back, the boy had signed it with his name and the year. 

Alfred reminds himself that they are lucky to have only lost pieces of pottery tonight, but in his exhausted state and without either of the artists present, the ache runs deep. 

He sits there holding the shattered pieces for far too long before shaking off his self-pity and going to bed.

Several weeks later, there is a replica of the blue coin dish sitting beside the repaired white dish on his dresser. A note from Master Dick reads, “I know it’s not the same, but it looks like my art skills are. Miss you. Love, your Young Master Dick.” 

It is not until then, running his fingers over the “Alfred” in the center of the new dish while re-reading the note, that Alfred lets a tear fall down his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you're feeling up to it, comments and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> [tumblr](https://daringyounggrayson.tumblr.com/)


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